When Dreams Become Reality
by AngelOfContemplation
Summary: What if Harry was a dream weaver bent on correcting the wrong that created Voldemort and placed the fate of the wizarding world in the hands of someone who wished death on all those associated with the Gaunt family? Rated T for safety.
1. The Riddle Family Takes Out The Trash

A/N: Alright guys, those of you who are waiting on the next chapter of A Different Song And Dance, I apologize for not having the next chapter up. I promise that I am working on it. I've just been babysitting three kids, my nephews and niece ages three, two and seven months. This story came to me so naturally that I couldn't ignore it. It is one of those what if kind of idea that nearly typed itself without my permission. Anyway, I hope you enjoy my latest trip into the oddball side of things in a story that felt the need to right past wrongs for the greater good of everyone involved.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, characters or the world they reside in. I do, however, own my overly oddball plot bunnies that move my fingers to type these things. This is also my first het story in a very long time.

Warnings: mild language use, evil old goats, and soul sucking of criminals mentioned. Enjoy! ^.^

Edit A/N: To Aealket and Sable Rose, I thank you for pointing out the left out parts of the story. I hadn't noticed that those things were missing and I hope I fixed them in a way that will help the story. Thanks guys! ^_^

* * *

_**When Dreams Become Reality**_

He'd always heard that there was a fine line between dreams and reality, but had never really believed it. As much as he trusted his best friend Luna, he honestly couldn't see himself as the dream weaver that she so often told him he was. Luna had a gift, you see, and it came with her gift of Sight. She could see and read auras and could clearly tell what a person's hidden gifts were. Had Harry believed in Divinations and all the rot associated with it, as according to the crackpot Trawnely, he could've trusted Luna enough to have researched and learned to master his gift before something this bloody bazaar happened to him. Honestly, who was he to stop fate from screwing him over numerous times without his consent?

* * *

_**-Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; Thursday, September 5, 1996 Gryffindor 6**__**th**__** year Boys Dorm-**_

The dream was reoccurring, and it was one of those dreams that had a clarity only reality should have. He stood there, in the St. Mungo's that existed in the 1930's, smiling proudly at the newborn babe in his arms. It was he and Merope's firstborn. She'd borne him a son, a precious baby boy with a tuft of dark chestnut hair, Blue green eyes, and a face that hinted at the handsome man he'd grown to be. It was a face that spoke of his own handsome features, but had touches of his dear wife. He smiled his complete and utter joy as he gently placed the infant in his wife's arms and watched, with tenderness in his eyes, as she nursed their son.

He was a pureblooded wizard, thanks to his mother's squib bloodline and his father's own pure wizard bloodline, and knew that Merope was a witch. He'd tease her often, saying that she'd bewitched him at first sight, for he'd fallen in love with her the very moment they'd met at a party held by his family at Riddle Manor. By the end of their first dance, he'd known beyond the shadow of a doubt that he'd finally found his soul mate and had wasted no time in proposing and bonding with her. Their bond was such a strong one that they'd both die if one of them rejected the other. Few wizards and witches chose to bind themselves so intricately together out of the fear that their relationship would not last and both would die. Such was the fear of the faithless and the fickle.

He and Merope had been trying for a child for a long time now, and this precious little miracle child was the answer to their prayers. He would be the light of their lives and never lacking in love and care. They would teach their son everything the child couldn't possibly learn from anyone else. He'd know that the Riddle family originated in the Americas where an ancestor had chosen to establish himself in the new world. It was several generations later that his grandparents decided to return to their homeland. Tom was looking forward to every moment ahead of them as a family. He was their world now, their little Tom Marvolo Riddle…

Harry couldn't understand it, this intense love for the child who had become a monster. Yes, Tom had once been an innocent babe but… wait, hadn't Dumbledore told him that Tom Riddle senior been given a love potion by Merope Gaunt? Didn't he say that Riddle had also abandoned the pregnant Merope when the potion had finally worn off and he discovered her to be a witch? That Riddle was a muggle man who detested magic? Deciding to delve further into this mystery, Harry once again closes his eyes and wills the truth to be shown.

Little Tom and his mother were finally home, and Tom sr. was overjoyed. He adored his infant son and helped Merope with the feeding, bathing, changing, and soothing of their precious little miracle baby. Life at Riddle manor was good. Little Tom loved his grandma and Grandpa Riddle and simply adored his grandpa Gaunt. They'd been home now for six months, and were so happy and focused on their little ray of sunshine that they never even felt the screaming of their wards that indicated an intruder in their home with ill intentions.

Little Tom was such a happy, calm, and content baby and they enjoyed playing with him and showering him with love and affection. It was what would become the downfall of their family, as well as what would create a new Dark Lord out of a mild-mannered and kind hearted man. It was Merope who noticed the intruder first, and her alarmed scream as she cradled their only child protectively in her arms that alerted Tom senior to the unwelcome presence as well. Seeing the light of a spell erupt from the tip of the stranger's wand, Tom throws himself in front of his wife and child just in time to prevent his precious family from having their magic ripped out of them.

Merope could only stare in silent horror as she felt her husband's magic disappear from his body, making him just as much of a squib as his dear mother. She could do nothing but tremble at the shock of their bond being broken. Without his magic, Tom couldn't sense their broken bond. It wouldn't harm him as it did her. Merope's scream is one of tortured agony as her magical core splits and tears her apart inside. Tom, watching his beloved in horror, takes the infant handed over to him and holds the squalling infant securely. He somehow manages to catch Merope with one arm before her body can hit the floor.

He can only stare helplessly as her once brilliant blue green eyes fade and begin to take on the glaze that only death brings. His heart, in that moment, shatters so completely that he's numbed. He feels his son being torn from his embrace and looks up sharply, only to see blue eyes that glint darkly at him, before he knows no more. He lives seventeen more years, oblivious to his own past before he dies by the wand of the son that had been erased from his memory.

Harry's body jerks into sitting position as his eyes stare in wide disbelief at the closed bed curtains around him. The Headmaster was the one who destroyed Tom's life! Holding a hand over his heart, Harry closes his eyes and wishes fervently that he could stop such a horrible fate from befalling the Riddle family.

Luna Lovegood, sitting upright in her bed in the Ravenclaw girls' dorm, lets out a snort of amusement as she feels Harry's magical signature vanish. Honestly, as much as she adored her best friend, he really should've believed her enough to research his own gifts and powers as a Dream Weaver. Didn't the fool know that he could only dream of his past lives unless he specifically wished to see other things? Didn't he know that he could return to whichever past life he wished and change the outcome for the better should he wish to alter the fate of that version of his past self? Honestly, men and their pride that somehow made them believe that they knew enough not to need to read the bloody manual.

Luckily for Harry, their soul mate bond allowed them to temporarily tap in to one another's gifts when they absolutely had need of it. Luna considered her soul mate no longer residing in the same timeline that she happened to be in, an emergency that warranted the use of the same skill that had taken him into his past self's body. She had no greater wish than to be with him in a time where their love wasn't restricted by a barmy old coot who liked to threaten her should she get too close to his Golden boy. That decided, Luna reaches inside of herself and touches their not so dormant bond and calls upon Harry's Dream Weaving gift, she would be with him soon.

Smiling softly to herself, she concentrates on her past self, her blue eyes warm with love as she thinks of reuniting with her husband of the past, and soul mate of many past lives. If he'd gone back to their most recent past, then Luna figured that she'd have to follow him as to keep him from getting into too much trouble. He was bloody brilliant at getting into trouble these days. She could only hope though, that Harry'd decided on their time in the hospital… after she'd birthed their son… She'd probably hex him otherwise.

* * *

_**-St. Mungo's Maternity Ward; December 31, 1927 Merope Gaunt Riddle's Room-**_

Harry awakened in Tom Riddle Sr.'s body, holding his newborn son and smiles tenderly at the babe, finally understanding the love of a father. His voice, when he speaks is a smooth baritone that's full of love for the infant her holds. "You'll grow into a handsome lad when the time is right."

One big, callused hand gently caresses one satiny smooth little cheek and Tom smiles even more when the infant's eyes gaze at him with an innocent love and affection and adoration. His sapphire blue eyes lift and land on his wife. The surge of love is comforting in its familiar presence and he walks to Merope's side. Placing a gentle kiss upon his son's little head, he carefully hands the babe over to his mother for nursing. The nurse comes to the bedside and smiles at the new parents.

"What will you name your little one there?"

Tom's sapphire gaze meets Merope's blue green and he smiles when she simply nods. Looking at the nurse, he smiles proudly. "His name will be Tom Marvolo Riddle."

The smiling nurse quickly writes the babe's name and her smile only widens when the birth certificate disappears with a soft pop to Gringott's for filing in the family vault. "I will give the three of you a few moments to bond before I allow your family and friends to barge in on you."

Merope's voice is soft and serenely happy. "Thank you."

The nurse walks out of the room and Tom looks at his wife when she delicately clears her throat. A dark brow is raised. "Yes love?"

Merope smiles simply. "Thank you for deciding to travel only this far into our past, Harry. And don't give me that surprised look; I had to follow you so you'd have a bit of help here. Had you come before my past self birthed our son, I'd have hexed you thoroughly. What is it you saw that made you wish to fix it?"

As Tom, Harry's knowledge included soul mates and soul mate bonds, so he didn't question how Luna'd been able to join him, he was just glad she'd been able to. He sighs softly at her question, still not liking the answer to it. "Luna… I saw…. It was Dumbledore who ruined our lives. I know you, as Merope, never got to see his face clearly, but I, as Tom, did before he obliviated me and placed our son in an orphanage. He ruined our family systematically, one member at a time. What I saw in that dream… I don't want it to come to pass. We cannot allow Dumbledore to win. If I am to defeat my greatest foe, it is in this time period."

Merope gazes at him sharply, and then nods her acceptance. "Then we will make sure we destroy him before he destroys us." Her smile is soft and amused. "I'm surprised that you've taken the news of our soul mate status so well."

Tom smiles affectionately at his wife. "Don't be, I've loved you for a long time, but the war and the way the Headmaster was watching me so closely prevented me from following my heart until I dealt with him."

She smiles as he leans down and accepts his deep, lovingly tender kiss. She can feel it, when Tom jr. decides that his little tummy is full and sweetly ends their kiss to readjust and cover her bared breast with her gown once more. Tom took their little one from her with a gentleness she'd only seen in him when they were together and smiles serenely as she watches him burp their newborn son. Their parents enter the room, along with their closest friends and she welcomes them warmly.

"Hey. Come on in, we don't bite, I promise." Her smile gentles when she looks at her husband and son. "Just let Tom get that little lad to burp and you can play pass the baby."

Samuel Riddle grins broadly when he hears the infant burp and watches him cuddle into his father's chest. His son had never looked happier, and Sam couldn't quite reign in his own joy. They finally had a grandchild to spoil and he hoped there would be more in the future. Mary Riddle is the first grandparent to hold the newborn babe and she coos over him when he squalls in protest at being taken from his father. Poor Tom looked ready to take the babe back and calm him; it is only Merope's smile and slight shake of the head stops him from doing just that as they watch their son get passed around.

Tom's voice is a bit gruff when Tom Jr. is given back to him by Merope, who wasn't the person their son wanted to fall asleep on. "This is Tom Marvolo Riddle. Should he become a brat as a result of your spoiling him, I shall hex you until you can no longer tell your arse from a hole in the ground."

There are a few chuckles and laughs, but grandparents and friends alike know just how serious the new father is about hexing them as they watch him hum a soft lullaby and soothe his newborn son to sleep as easily as if he'd had years of experience. He'd always been that way with children. Samuel grins. "I would complain that he's such a natural with little Tom there, but he's always been able to charm babes and young ones into adoring him. I suppose it's his gift."

Mary rolls her eyes in fond amusement at her husband. "No darling, Our Tom is a Dream Weaver who just so happens to have a way with children. It simply means that little Tom there will have a brilliant father who will help his equally brilliant mother raise him and care for him rather than having one like his very unhelpful grandfather who wouldn't touch a nappy with a ten foot pole."

She smiles gently at her daughter in law. "Remember that you are blessed to be bonded to Tom rather than Samuel. Tom, at least, won't mind changing dirty nappies and helping you care for junior there."

Merope accepts her words kindly. "I will remember it every time he allows me to sleep a while longer and takes care of our son's needs while I get my sleep in." Blue green eyes gaze teasingly at her father in law. "Maybe that's the reason Mary refused to birth any more of your offspring Sam."

Samuel scowls as the others in the room laugh. Tom adds his own bit of teasing in. "He was awkward with me until I turned five. He's not much of a baby person, but he does alright with children five and older."

Mary giggles. "Yes, that is true sweetheart, but he is still a good father. You take after him, you know, but with different skills with children is all."

Tom's expression softens as he looks down at the infant snuggled against his chest. "Yes, I know. I have a wonderful father. And, if he felt even half of what I feel when I hold this little miracle here, I know without a doubt just how much my dad has always loved me."

Merope, with Luna's future knowledge, feels her eyes tear up; understanding better than anyone would exactly what her husband speaks of. Harry hadn't been all too sure how very much his parents had loved him in the year they'd been in his life. Now, once again holding the child he'd held in the past, he can feel firsthand the love a parent can have for their offspring even then first time they hold their little one. She watches with a smile as Sam gives his son a one armed hug. Maybe their journey into this timeline was exactly what the both of them needed.

* * *

_**-Headmaster's Office; Friday, September 6, 1996-**_

Albus Dumbledore was, well, dumbfounded. Two of the children he was supposed to be protecting had simply disappeared into thin air in the middle of the night. Both were valuable pawns in his game. His blood feud with the Gaunt family was almost complete now. All that was left were Tom, Harry, and Luna's deaths. Oh, he knew exactly who was reincarnated in Harry and Luna. He also knew, that if Tom died and they lived on, that their firstborn would be the reincarnation of Tom. It was something he could not allow for the sake of ending the feud between the Gaunt and Dumbledore families. the reason his little sister had needed to die was because she had fallen in love with a Gaunt and refused to see reason when Albus had kindly asked her to stop seeing the lad. He'd told his family that he'd seen the boy kill her and there the feud began. Only Aberforth did not believe his tale of murder. Because they'd made him kill his sweet little sister, every last Gaunt must be destroyed.

* * *

_**-Riddle Manor; January 25, 1928, kitchen-**_

Merope's giggles could be heard ringing beautifully through the kitchen. Tom could be found, infant cradled securely in one arm, bottle in his other hand, scowling at his wife for laughing at his rumpled appearance. His dark hair was horribly wild, much wilder than it had been in his future as Harry Potter. Tom had yet to have a moment for his morning shower and he was, according to Merope, adorably rumpled with his unshaven and wild-haired just rolled out of bed look. Sure she could giggle her heart out; she'd gotten her shower and was looking wonderful.

"You're lucky you looked so peaceful this morn or you would look like this. He woke up at the ghastly hour of five in the morn and hasn't slept again since. If you would be so kind as to take over, love, I would enjoy getting ready for the day."

Merope, letting out one last giggle, takes her baby from his rumpled, and grumpy, daddy and takes over feeding him. She watches her husband grumble as he heads to their bedroom and she smiles softly at her baby boy. "Your daddy loves you very much little one. He wouldn't even wake up before the sun arose for his job, yet he allows you to wake him up whenever you wish."

Little Tom looks up at her contentedly from around his bottle, loving it when his mum and dad talk to him. He could hear it in their voices, how very much they loved him. As young as he was, he loved them just as much in return. Mum was a serene and gentle woman who often sang to him in her sweet and beautiful voice. Dad was a strong, but warm and caring man, who often spoke to him, read stories and books to him, and played with him. His grandparents lived to coo at and spoil him. His Godfather, Scorpius Malfoy, was fun. He was dad's best friend who also liked to read things to him.

Tom Jr. was as much of a bookworm as his daddy was already. Mum joked often that Tom Sr. would have him reading full chapter stories before he was potty trained and out of nappies. Tom Jr. though, didn't really mind. He enjoyed the interesting bits of knowledge that could be found within the pages of a book. He loved to watch his dad's finger slide underneath each word as he read aloud. It was his dad's belief that Tom would learn the words and be able to recognize them when he himself began reading. His godfather enjoyed showing the infant arithmancy, claiming that you had to start a child off early.

He was a happy baby. Content and happy that his dad took just as much care of him as his mum did. They shared the responsibility. They fed him, bathed him, and changed his nappies and everything. In everything Tom Sr. was a hands-on dad who was teaching Samuel that one could keep manly pride and look strong while holding an infant. It had been Sam's problem when Tom was an infant, the worry about losing his pride as a man if he'd been seen changing nappies. Foolish of him, dad always said, but his grandpa was learning. Samuel could even be seen changing a nappy or two these days. In short, the domesticated family life they had was happiness and bliss despite the rough parts.

* * *

_**-Voldemort's base of Operations; September 15, 1996-**_

Lord Voldemort awoke from his doze trembling in the wake of a nightmare. It had started since his resurrection when he'd blended the bones of his father and the blood of his enemy. It was as if a dam inside of him had broken and he kept seeing the light of an ancient curse used to turn a witch or wizard into a squib, the agonized screams of a woman, and the light of the obliviate that seemed familiar. After every nightmarish dream, he'd feel remorse and a deep sadness about having killed his father. The elder Tom Riddle had been sad and resigned to his fate when his son's wand was leveled at him. What disturbed Tom now was the shock upon being told who faced him that day, as well as the agony and heartbreak etched into his father's worn features.

Potter reminded him of that man he'd slain back then. The way he walked, talked, acted. The way he spoke sometimes. His warmth and strength and the way—the way he cared for infants whenever he was able to babysit in that muggle residence he was kept in during the summer hols. There had always been something familiar about it. There had always been something else in the eyes of the wizarding world's boy savior. It was the reason Tom had yet to honestly try to kill the boy. There was love, for him, for the enemy who'd slaughtered his parents. There was a deep understanding as well as a sad pride that Tom couldn't fathom the meaning for. That is, he couldn't, until this very moment.

He remembered now, these nightmares were memories of the likes of which he'd witnessed in the boy's mind the few times he'd decided to sit in on the teen's dreams. His worst nightmares always involved death. His parents, his school friend, his godfather, and every single moment dreamed of was real and clear; which meant that Tom had always hated Albus Dumbledore for a damn good reason. The bastard had been the one who killed his mother and destroyed his family when he was no older than Harry had been when he'd lost his parents. He'd done to the reincarnation of his father what had been done to him by a man who was an enemy of their family. This war was that barmy old man's concoction. It was a way to be rid of Tom's entire family.

All he had to find out now was why someone would go to such lengths to eradicate an entire family. He could remember something his father had always said when he was but an infant. He could still see the loving expression on the man's face, the kind warmth in his sapphire eyes. He could still hear the warm baritone voice filled with wisdom and affection, and the words came clearly to him now, as they had when they'd been the last words to pass from his father's lips the day he'd murdered what remained of his own family.

"No matter what you do in life Tommy, you will always be my baby boy, my son, and I will always be proud to be your father. I may not approve of what you're doing sometimes, but I will always love you and give you the support you need, all the while trying to talk some sense into you. Love is important Tom, and it is strong magic. Remember that well, my son. I love you more than you know."

Tom could feel them, and was shocked that he could still cry, even in this snake-like body. He hadn't believed the man's dying words as he'd believed them when he still knew him intimately as the father who loved and cared for him. Potter somehow remembered his past life; the boy had to, to be looking at him as a disappointed father would. The way he spoke sometimes was as if he were patiently explaining why Tom shouldn't be doing what he was doing now. It angered him so much only because he felt like a petulant child being scolded by his parents for the things he'd done wrong. Odd as it was, it was how he'd felt every time he'd faced off with the boy from his fourth year on.

Harry, even as his enemy, had always held the belief that love held a special power. Maybe the fact that Tom had always regretted killing his father, and had always wondered how things would have been different had he simply talked to the man instead of offing him, coupled with how very much like Tom Sr. Harry was, was what kept him from killing the teen as he could have so many times before now. And now, the boy was reportedly missing. Where ever he was, Tom held the unreasonable hope that maybe things would turn out differently and this timeline would no longer exist as it was once Harry was at the end of his latest new adventure.

Remembering the feeling of love and comfort in his father's arms as an infant, Tom smiles as pleasantly as one can being lipless and all, and then frowns at the flashes of the nightmarish end of his family. He knew one thing, beyond the shadow of a doubt, Albus Dumbledore would be going through Hell until this timeline changed for the better and Tom would enjoy every last bit of trouble given the man, all in the name of his lost family.

* * *

_**-The Ministry, Minister of Magic's Office; January 25, 1928-**_

Tom sat behind his desk; contemplating the ways he could begin to destroy Albus Dumbledore. Aberforth Dumbledore was a key player as the man knew his brother's weaknesses and was more than willing to help destroy him. Albus had been responsible for their sister's death, and had left his brother in Azkaban to rot while Tom had questioned Aberforth privately, judged for himself the truth of the accusations against the man, and had pardoned him. For once, Tom was glad of his fair-minded ways. He had until November 20th of this year to plan Albus' downfall before it became far too late to get rid of the pest. He runs a hand through dark chestnut locks that already show the beginnings of his already stressful day in the office.

He'd only been at the office for two hours and had already had two meetings and ten floo calls from ministers in other countries, as well as the muggle correspondent who was demanding an answer as to what should be done about their current crisis. Honestly, it was his opinion that they hire a different person to be liaison between their different cultural worlds. The muggle's current problem wasn't really the worry of the Wizarding world until it broke into a war that threatened their homeland itself. Until then, the muggle government could not look to their resident magical community for aide and the Prime Minister knew it. Why this liaison didn't understand that made no sense to him whatsoever.

Luckily for Tom, the man was only able to connect to his office floo for a very short period of time, so he didn't have to deal with this foolishness for long. His only consolation about this already annoying day; was that he had a wife and son to go home to at the end of his work day. It was something he'd always look forward to. Tom Jr. was already growing in intelligence. The last time Tom had laid out flash cards before he and his son in the family room and spoke the names of the colors, little Tom had reached out to each color, and had gotten each color correctly matched to the word his father had spoken. Merope may try to dissuade him from beginning on their son's education so early on, but he knew that even she could see the merit in it.

She'd watched her men with a deep fascination and awe at how quickly their baby boy was beginning to learn things. He'd even begun to try to say his first word only moments before Tom had left the manor. He could only smile to himself, knowing that the research done in the future was the key reason as to why he'd decided to begin working with Tommy sooner rather than later. Research showed that children learn better and more quickly in their formative years. Learning processes often slowed as the child grows older. Tom wasn't entirely sure why that happened, but he'd trusted the research enough to try it out. Thus far, the research was proving to have been accurately interpreted as Tom Jr. was most definitely picking up on things quickly.

A knock on his office door brings him out of his thoughts and he sighs quietly before calling out. "Enter."

* * *

_**-Riddle Manor; same date; around the same time-**_

Merope, inspired by her son's attempt at speech this morn, was holding up flash card after flash card and speaking the words on them clearly and precisely. It was only the third time she'd started from the beginning and she stayed silent this time, making sure she gave her baby boy time to try the words out, amazed as he slurred, but said each word as it was shown to him. The Luna inside of her wondered where Harry had gotten the idea of teaching their son so early in life. She knew that the muggles in their original timeline knew many things about the way a child's brain developed, but she wasn't sure if this was one of those insights made about the development of a child's mind.

She'd scolded Harry when he'd begun to read to Tom and had started to teach him things, even going so far as to allow Scorpius to teach their son Arithmancy, but maybe he'd been wise to begin this learning process. From what she'd been told by Harry in the future, Riddle had been a highly intelligent child and that intelligence only grew as he'd grown into adulthood. If the babe before her now had been incredibly intelligent without them having done this the first time around, they maybe, just maybe, this would help give his smart little mind have something to do. As long as there was more to learn, their little Tom would have plenty of reading material as he grew.

Oh drat, she really hoped he wouldn't become another bookwormish, know-it-all nightmare like Hermione. Intelligence and knowledge was a plus, and helping someone ignorant of something by sharing your knowledge was all good and well, but not knowing when it was best to leave well enough alone and not try to turn your friends into yourself. Even though it could be done with the best of intentions, it didn't mean that it should be done. She would be sure to teach Tom the importance of such a thing before he was old enough to attend Hogwarts. She changed the flashcard again, seeing the word on the back this time is, daddy.

Tom blinks innocently at the new card his mum is holding up and smiles adorably when he recognizes the word. "Daddy!" He squeals when his mummy picks him up and joyfully spins around, laughing that beautiful laugh of hers.

She dances them over to the floo and kneels beside it after grabbing a handful of floo powder and tossing it into the flames, shouting, "Ministry of Magic, Minister's Office the pass code is 'sprinkled nargles'!"

They look into the flames together and see that Tom Sr. is sitting calmly at his desk, busy with a newly delivered stack of papers. Merope happily grins at their son. "Come on Tommy, say it again."

Tom happily says the word again. "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!"

Tom Sr.'s head snaps up and over to the fireplace. A brilliant smile curves his lips handsomely and he moves over to the floo and kneels before it. "Well, hello to you too, son." He grins at his wife. "When'd he learn that one?"

Merope smiles proudly. "He said it just now. We've been going through the word flashcards. This morn Tom and this is the first word he's said clearly. The others were a bit slurred."

Little Tom gurgles happily. "Daddy!"

Tom chuckles deeply, this brightening his annoying day considerably. "Good job Tom. I'm glad you decided to share this moment love; it's made my day brighter. I was rather annoyed with it from the first hectic meeting. I think I shall make this a half day. We should celebrate our baby boy's first word."

Merope nods curtly. "Of course we should. Come home as soon as you are able darling. We are going to keep practicing our words. Where ever you learned of this teaching your baby early thing, I am glad you decided upon trying it with Tom. Despite my initial protestations against such a thing, it is good to be proven wrong in this way."

Tom grins. "I'm glad you approve now love. I shall see you both at home soon. I love you Merope, and I love you Tom. Keep practicing okay little man?"

Their son surprises them again. "Okay Daddy!"

Both parents share a happy and brilliant smile before the floo powder used to make the call is used up and Merope and Tom's faces fade from the coals. Tom continues through his day so content and happy that nothing can stir his bad humor. His little boy was going to be a great wizard some day, and Tom was quite sure that he'd be even more proud of his son in the future than he was of him in this moment.

* * *

_**-Malfoy Manor; July 14, 1928-**_

Scorpius, after speaking with Tom and Merope, decided that, when he too would begin to teach his newborn son, Abraxas, what Tom had decided to teach his namesake. The almost six month old Tom was able to read his own bedtime story, and his godson could be found asleep, in his father's arms, after having read himself to sleep. Tom had even begun to read books that were written in different languages to the babe. Tommy, as he was affectionately nicknamed, even had a collection of flash cards written in different languages. He was learning them, one at a time, and there were pictures on the cards that gave him an idea of what each new word meant.

At this very moment, as their fathers carried on a conversation, both boys were in an enlarged cot, and Tommy had taken it upon himself to become Abraxas' protective 'big brother'. Merope and Serena were cooing over the adorable sight of Tommy huggling his god brother in a protective kind of way while Abraxas drooled on him in his sleep. Dobby, the Malfoy's house elf that had been appointed as a nanny elf for the little Malfoy heir, was the subject of Tommy's pint-sized version of suspicious scrutiny. Dobby held out a bottle as a gesture of good will and peace, and the women watched with adoring amusement as the baby accepted the bottle with a curt nod. It was as if Tommy was accepting and dismissing Dobby with one simple nod of the head.

Tom and Scorpius; deep within their conversation about what to teach their sons, when to teach them certain things, and why look up and over at the women and children when Serena and Merope burst into gales of laughter. Chuckles escape both men when they see Tommy glaring lazily at Dobby who is frantically rubbing at his now electric blue skin and pulling at the neon orange afro on the top of his head. It was a sure sign that the baby thought that Dobby was a threat, despite the bottle peace offering. It was also a sure sign that Tommy had a sense of humor and was magically strong as his accidental magic had done two things at once to the house elf.

* * *

_**-November 20, 1928; Riddle Manor-**_

Albus Dumbledore had perfected the perfect spell just yesterday. It was an obscure spell once used on witches and wizards who wished to remain with muggles while the rest of the wizarding community separated themselves from the ones who refused to understand and accept them. It was this spell that had created many of the squib lines that existed to this very day. It was perfect for getting rid of Merope Gaunt Riddle. Her precious husband would never let her get hit with such a spell, even if it meant that his own magic would be ripped from his core.

Without his magical signature, their bond would be broken and Merope would die. Albus could then deal with her husband and their spawn as he wished. So confident was he that Dumbledore didn't feel the faint signature of the magic dampening ward that had settled itself around the wizard who wished the occupants of Riddle Manor ill. It was a parsaltongue ward that Merope and Tom had created and put into place together. It was also something they'd not thought important the first time around, the creation of such a ward. Its genius existed in the shock of Dumbles when he couldn't perform the spell because it took the magical power held hostage by the parsal ward to perform it properly.

The look on his face when he found himself face to face with a pissed Tom Riddle Sr., the man's wand point digging into his chest, was priceless. Merope stood nearby, holding Tommy, both watching Tom deal with the intruder. Tom, not one to waste time, interrogates the Dumbledore until the man reveals every last dirty little plot he'd come up with. It was a memory that was immediately placed inside of a pensive, along with Merope's and Tommy's corresponding memories as witnesses. Although he was the Minister of Magic, Tom followed his sense of fair play and floated a stunned and bound Albus Dumbledore to the Ministry and placed him in a holding cell until his trial could be arranged. The memories were given to Tom's arguer for the balding man to view and build his case upon.

Tom finished with his task, returned home to his wife and son, happy that their sad end had not come to pass this day. Though the old man was in a securely guarded holding cell, the Riddles did not relax until one Albus Dumbledore was turned into a squib, then given the Dementor's Kiss and placed in a ward until the day his living body died.

* * *

_**-Epilogue-**_

As the years passed, the British Wizarding Ministry flourished, and with it, because of it, the peoples it governed also flourished and prospered under the fair hand of Tom Riddle Sr. Orphanages were built and caring workers who were both competent and qualified were hired. Child services was given the reigns to an extent, and each orphanage had a monthly budget to work with that ranged from modest to generous depending upon the number of children and workers in each one. Child services were given the authority to take those orphans they found who had families who did not want them around and place them in an orphanage.

Werewolves, as well as other supposedly 'dark' creatures, were given equal rights in Wizarding society. Each creature type had their own heavily warded park or gathering place they could go to when they felt their more primal urges surfacing. The changes Tom Sr. brought to the land he governed led only to peace. Though they occasionally fought in a war elsewhere, British wizards witnessed only now-and-again crooks causing trouble. Aurors were so well trained and placed and regulated underneath rules their Minister of Magic had set in place for them that they were able to move as a well oiled unit and capture, process, and cage the troublemakers who warranted such treatment.

There was trouble still, yes, but things were handled in a way that gave people faith in their elected officials that they'd never been able to have before. Tom jr. had been in Hogwarts for years and had finally found someone who didn't care about who his family was, or the amount of money they had. Her name was Mertle and Tom Sr. and Merope found her to be a sweet, soft-spoken girl with a rather feisty temper. Luna and Harry both privately thought that she was much better as a living person rather than a screeching ghost. With the way the two teens looked at one another, they knew that they'd be helping their only child with wedding plans in the near future.

Tom Marvolo Riddle, with the memories of both timelines, stood before the graves of his beloved parents. They'd been dead now for three years. His sad smile is the only indication of how very much he misses them. They'd died together, curled up in one another's arms in their bedroom late one night in October. Tom was the one who found them and made sure that they were placed in a coffin together, just as they were found. They shared a coffin and a Headstone as they'd shared everything in life and Tom could often be found visiting their resting place with his family in tow. He and his lovely wife Mertle were blessed as his parents had not been.

There were five of them, two girls and three boys. Salazar and Salem were twins as well as the eldest of their brood. Michaela was the next in line closely followed by Jacob and Raven. Mertle was the proud owner of her own craft and art supplies shop, and Tom had followed in his father's footsteps. The wizards and witches he governed learned immediately that a Riddle in office, serving as the Minister of Magic, was the best kind of Riddle to be had.

Having had notice of the new births, Tom had finally understood why his parents had passed at a rather early age for magic users. After all, Harry Potter and Luna Lovegood could not exist very well without their souls now could they? As a Dream Weaver himself, Tom more than understood the rules of travel. When you travelled into the past to correct a misdeed against your family in your past life, your past self, despite being saved from an ugly end, would die a few months prior to your present self's birth. The balance for the Dream Weaver could exist no other way.

And so Tom plotted and planned out how he would aide his parents as they grew and made another family together. Harry Potter would, after all, need a tutor in the art of Dream Weaving, and who better than the child he'd taught himself? Mertle, seeing her husband's rather Slytherin smirk, laughs gently at his silent plotting and pulls him away, their children walking happily with the couple. Thanks to a family Gift, and the warm, loving heart of one teen, as well as the love and protective instincts of another, the past that had created Lord Voldemort was rewritten. Lives were spared on a colossal scale, and darkness had been destroyed.

The way was shown, and those they left behind were there to follow their example and fight to keep darkness at bay so that peace could prosper for as long as the fates allowed.

* * *

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed reading this oddball story. At least, I see it as an oddball story, may be something completely different to you. Anyways, thanks for reading, let me know how you liked it, and bye until the next one!1 or next chapter of my poor little author's blocked story, whichever comes first!


	2. Father, Son, And Mother

**A/N:** This... came out of no friggin where. It's weird to me because it goes right along with this here story... as an excerpt/flashback thingy. I was not expecting it, so I'm just as surprised as you guys are that this supposedly complete story gets an update. So uhmmm...enjoy my random plot bunnies and their random muse high-jacking moments?

**Warnings:** Uhhmmmm... actually... I can think of none at the moment. Let me know if you guys spot something I should've warned you about though. I may have just missed it. I'll change my warning here if I did, so just let me know ne?

**Disclaimers: **I Do not own anything recognizable as belonging to anyone with a stake in the Harry Potter world. Me no own, Me no make money from this, Me no do anything other than share the love for whichever characters my muses and plot bunnies happen to favor... So no sue and we all go home happy. Anyways, enjoy it if you can folks! ^_^

_**\Ahoy ye peoples who choose to read these things! Onward we go so hold on to your drinks and seats! It's a... erm... ride? Eh, who cares? Enjoy!/**_

Merope Riddle couldn't help the smile, nor the soft giggle that escaped her smile curved lips at the sight of her husband and ten-year-old son. The man, who had taken the day off from his duties as Minister of Magic and left his Deputy to all of the work for the day, had decided on a boys day with just himself and their Tommy. The boy, who was supposedly old enough to not want to be seen in public with his embarrassingly affectionate parents, had been overjoyed to get his hardworking father to himself for the first time in a long time as Tom usually liked to spend a day with is wife when Tommy was visiting his best friend Abraxas Malfoy. Tommy understood that his mum and dad needed time to be a couple, and usually chose the days he left to coincide with some of Tom's days off. This had been one of those times when Tom had to stop his son from giving he and Merope a day to themselves in favor of the father/son days they both loved so much. The boy had been overjoyed and had tackled his beloved daddy with a tight hug before hugging his mother as she'd left for a day spent with Serena Malfoy.

Merope had been glad to be out of the house for a while, and even more indulgently happy to allow her boys their time together. She hadn't meant to stay out so late with Serena, but she'd been gone for more hours than she could count and it had been a dark sky that had greeted her when she'd chanced a look out of the window of the nursery she'd helped set up as she and her friend had talked the day away. She'd taken the floo back home and now, standing in the family room that none but family and friends they were as close to as if they were family, she was glad she'd chosen the quieter approach into the house. There, before her eyes, rested Tom, his back upon the seat cushions of their large couch. Laying sprawled out atop his chest, was their oh-so independent little Tommy curled like a contented little cat. The boy was safe in that broad chest only because of the strong arms wrapped securely, even in sleep, around his back. Judging by the fashion statement both sported of bare chests and sweatpants, Merope surmised that they'd been practicing spells and such again and had fallen asleep together after a shower and...

Walking over to her men quietly, Merope crouches and gently picks up the book that had obviously been dropped by one of the sleeping beauties on her comfy sofa. Her eyes skim over the title and her smile turns into a fond grin. It was just as she'd thought, her men had been reading up on spell weaving techniques and theories, as was usual after a practice session between the two. Stepping closer to the sleeping duo, she bends down just enough to brush a kiss on each male's cheek, then she puts the book on the nearby table (where it had likely been headed before it had slipped from sleep-numbed fingers) and makes her way to the kitchen. There was more than one way to wake a slumbering male, after all...

_**\-Cute moments abound when there's none around to appreciate the simplicity of love and affection. Hat we normally come upon is the end result of an affectionate moment... but even those tend to make the people involved even more adorable when seen being cute together.-/**_

Tom Riddle Jr gazed at the picture of his ten-year-old self curled up asleep on his dad, wondering when his mother had managed to take that particular photograph of him and his father. He didn't often enjoy looking through his old family albums as it made him miss his parents and their deaths were all too fresh in his heart and mind. It mad him happy and sad in equal parts to look back and remember that he'd never be able to have that same relationship with his father again, despite the fact that he'd been reborn; yet he was thankful for the time he did have with his father when the man was alive. The only reason he'd opened the current album in his lap was to find his favorite memories of his parents for the expose' the wonderfully bonkers family behind the magazine called 'The Quibbler' were running on Tom and Merope Riddle from the perspective of their only child.

This album, was one of photographs his mum had taken of him and his dad on their boy's days together. All of them were candid and none had been taken with either his or his dad's knowledge. It showed, in various frames, the love of a father for his son, and a son for his father. Tom could remember how very much he'd adored his mother, but she'd told him once that she knew that his Daddy would always be his favorite parent. Merope was wonderfully special in the way that she never minded it that her son played favorites, so long as he showed her love whenever his dad was at work and he was home with his mum. He'd spent days with her too, apart from his dad, and had enjoyed those days, but not nearly as much as he'd adored his one-on-one time with his dad.

Looking upon the photograph now, Tom could remember the day clearly. He and his dad had been practicing their spellwork, getting ready to create spells of their own. The elder Riddle had created three different spells and was refining them as he kept an eye on his son's work. Well, one of the two spells Tommy had been working on had exploded in a rush of air so strong and so specialized that it had blown all of the dust from the places on the shelves in the library that even the house elves couldn't clean. All of that dust had, of course, landed directly on the man and the boy in the room and nothing else. They'd coughed, looked at one another, and laughed before tom had taken his son aside and explained what he'd done wrong. After telling him how to fix the problem he'd been having with his spell, he'd encouraged Tommy to continue his work on the spell until he'd perfected it. They'd finished up hours later, showered, changed into their sweats, eaten a snack, and curled up on the couch to read the new book they'd recently gotten on spell weaving until they'd fallen into an exhausted sleep.

Tom could even remember clearly how wonderfully delicious his mum's cooking had been that night and how they'd all swapped stories about how their day had gone. It was decided then, in the midst of his fondest memories, that Tom knew he'd found the right album of photographs to share. There were stories of both parents, even in the photographs of only himself and his dad that his mum didn't end up seen walking in the background with her camera safely in her dainty hands. From one story of the moment that had ended in the cute pictures shown in the album, one after the other, there were those that followed those captured moment that included his mother and showed the love that held their family together better than the muggle world's most permanent glue, or the wizarding world's most unbreakable sticking charm.. that's what the magazine wanted, an intimate portrait of the family behind the proper image that the public knew all too well. They wanted to know who Merope and Tom Riddle had been beyond the image they'd had to uphold for the public at large, and that was what he'd give them... the real Tom and Merope Riddle, and an insight as to why their only son loved them so dearly and missed them with every breath.

AS a dream weaver, he knew why his parents had died at a young age for a magical couple, but that didn't mean that he didn't have the right to grieve and feel the loss of the parents that life seemed to enjoy taking from his life prematurely. Luckily for him, his dear Myrtle and their children were on the way to healing is grief-stricken heart. And maybe, just maybe, this expose' would also be a way for him to heal. After all, it was a different thing altogether to tell your family stories they'd all heard before than it was to tell the world at large stories they never heard before about people they'd never seen the goofy and fun side to. Where family learned to tune out things they'd already heard, this would be a captive audience and Tom Marvolo Riddle was going to adore sharing his parents and his relationship with each of them with that captive audience who would then spread their new found knowledge. In this way, he supposed it made him feel better as it meant that his parent's memories were never forgotten. They would live on in the stories told to children too young to read the magazine, and there would be stories written about them and the way that the riddle family had brought peace to their little slice of the wizarding world beginning with Tom Riddle Senior, and continuing with the son he'd loved and raised.

It felt good to be a living legacy of a love so strong that the reincarnation of his father had felt so strongly that he'd gone back to his past life to make a better world for the son that world, and a lack of love, had turned into a bitter monster of a man. He'd never been as glad for impetuous Gryffindors as he had been the day his enemy had returned to become the father he'd never had the chance to be to one Dark Lord Voldemort. In a round about way, Tom figured that Harry really had defeated the Dark Lord he'd been in another reality. His power that Voldemort had not known of, had been love, and the gift of dream weaving...

_**-Tah-dah? The end y'all!-**_

**A/N: ** This story was pulled right out of an invisible hat I must've tripped upon while looking up stories on my favorites list that I wanted to read again. I have no clue where it came from, honestly, but I do hope you guys were able to enjoy it!


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